


I'll Keep You Sane

by TheGodofSmut



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: White Knight (Comics)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Begging, Bisexual Edward Nygma, Bisexual Harley Quinn, Biting, Bloody Kisses, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Blow Jobs in a Car, Bottom Joker, Boys Kissing, Car Sex, Come as Lube, Complicated Relationships, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Denial of Feelings, Doggy Style, Drunk Blow Jobs, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Eventual Romance, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Feelings Realization, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Forehead Kisses, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, Gay Oswald Cobblepot, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Groping, Hair-pulling, Heavy Angst, Idiots in Love, Kissing in the Rain, Lesbian Poison Ivy, Love Bites, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Morning Kisses, Multiple Sex Positions, Mutual Masturbation, Naked Cuddling, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Joker/Harleen Quinzel, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Relationship Issues, Rimming, Romantic Gestures, Sex in a Car, Shower Sex, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Slow Romance, Spit As Lube, Spit Kink, Surprise Kissing, Teasing, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-19 15:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodofSmut/pseuds/TheGodofSmut
Summary: You'd think a homicidal clown wouldn't want anything to do with some new guy in Arkham but that's exactly what happened.





	1. Letter One

_Hey. I know it's been nearly three years since we spoke, and that's my fault, to be honest. I don't even know if you want to talk to me. You'll probably just throw this in the trash, at least after you read it. How are you doing in Mexico? I hope everything's okay. How I wish I could be there with you..._

_I wasn't supposed to be there, you know. But I and everyone else knows what I've done, and it's the least I deserve. It's funny, really, how ironic this whole situation turned out. I can't believe I'm actually explaining this to you, but you deserve to know. You always deserved to know. It started a while ago. Back when I used to live in Gotham. You remember that place, don't you? You'd be lucky if you didn't. The memory is engraved in my brain._

_Ah, I don't know how to explain all of this to you... You're probably very worried about me, though I doubt it after how I was. You don't have to worry, I'm doing fine. I'm going to tell you what happened to me._

_After you left for Mexico, I really wasn't the same. I felt like I had a missing piece that was supposed to be filled but I didn't know how. I'm not telling you this to guilt trip you, I'm telling you because it was an important part of what happened to me._

_Anyways, I didn't feel right at the time. Things weren't okay at home. Dad was very abusive and his drinking problem had gotten worse. I was receiving more and more beatings. I still remember how much they hurt, how they would never heal. I was at the point of falling apart, to say the least._

_I know this is probably old news for you, but I made a decision that I don't know if I should have or not. One day, Dad and I were having another argument again. I don't remember what it was about, but I do remember that he was getting ready to beat me again and I had grabbed a kitchen knife to defend myself. He was taunting me, telling me horrible things I still think about, and I couldn't take it anymore._

_You're probably disappointed in me right now. "What have you done, Andrew?" You're probably asking. I did the inevitable, sad to say._

_Dad didn't know what happened at first. He looked down and saw the blade was inside his stomach, the creases in his aging face showing how distraught he became. He was frozen for a moment, then he brought his hands to his belly and there was blood on his fingertips._

_I didn't want to do it, but I had to. I had to end this cycle one way or another. I just didn't count on it being this way. Sometimes I wonder how my life would've turned out if I had just put down the knife, other times I want to go back in time and do it again._

_Nevertheless, I was horrified by what I did. I scrambled for the phone and called 9-1-1. I couldn't speak properly and the operator had told me to calm down. As much as I wanted to shout I couldn't, I did. I explained to him what I did and he told me they were going to send a patrol car over._

_"The police?" I had asked. He confirmed that it was, in fact, a police car._

_I felt the blood drain from my face. I couldn't go to prison! A boy like me couldn't handle a place like that. I was freaking out even more now. The police were coming and my dad's deceased body was bleeding all over the floor. I had to do something quick, so I decided to run away. I know, I know, why would I call the police and then run away? I don't know, I was scared. Maybe I wanted them to take Dad and bury him because I just don't have enough respect for him to do it myself._

_I don't have enough time to finish this letter, so I'm going to end it here. I'll write the rest in another letter when I can, assuming you even get this one._

_Yours truly,_

_Andrew_


	2. Letter Two

_Hey, it's me again. I hope you read my previous letter. How are you doing? I hope you're not appalled by me. I just want to tell you what happened after you left._

_So I had called the police but then I ran away. I had no time to grab anything, it was just me and the clothes I was wearing. It was dark out and I didn't know where to go. As I was leaving the neighborhood, I saw a police car run down the street with its sirens on. I was sure they would see me and stop to arrest me, but they kept going and so did I._

_Believe it or not, they did catch me eventually. There was a missing persons report on me. I have no idea who filed it but somebody must have been wondering where I was and told the police about it because they found me. They must have also figured out I had killed my dad as well because I was brought to an interrogation room and confronted with specific questions._

_I confessed to everything. I mean, why bother to let this draw out with a meaningless investigation? I told them how I didn't just murder my dad but the reason behind it. The abuse and the trauma that he gave me. Grabbing a knife to protect myself._

_They asked me if I intended to do it. I said I had been thinking about it, but not when it actually happened. I was hoping they would dismiss it as a case of self-defense, but that's not what happened. So there I was, sitting in the courtroom with a couple dozen stern eyes locked onto me, and what they never tell you is that it takes a damn long time to get it over with. Or at least, that's what it felt like._

_"How do you plead, Mr. Myers?" The judge asked me._

_Of course I answered, "Guilty." Because I just wanted this to be over and done with, and spend my sentence in prison._

_So the judge hit his gavel and called for a recess. When they came back, he announced that I was guilty of the voluntary manslaughter of my father._

_They sentenced me not to Blackgate Prison, but to Arkham Asylum, for ten years. They told me it was to treat my trauma. I wonder what you think of me as you're reading this. I wouldn't know, honestly. We drifted apart and now our understanding of each other is just a blur. I don't even know if you care about what happened to me. I just thought you had the right to know._

_I'll write you another letter soon. Maybe you can add it to the pile of unread letters I sent. That was my bad attempt at a joke._

_Yours truly,_

_Andrew_


	3. Letter Three

_Hey again. This is my last letter, I promise. I'm going to wrap up my story._

_So I was found guilty and they sent me off to Arkham Asylum. I had nothing but the clothes I was wearing, but it didn't matter anyways, since I learned they take away your items when you come in. They took my clothes and gave me the uniforms that the inmates wear. I know it's a mental institution but we're treated more like inmates than we are as patients. I won't really explain that part right now._

_Anyways, they gave me the lowdown and put me in a cell. There was a daily routine; wake up, eat breakfast (the food tasted like shit), go to a group therapy session (which was horrible), go to your psychiatrist (also horrible), eat lunch, hang out at the rec center (not so horrible), eat dinner, take your meds (the worst), and stay in your cell until it's time to go to sleep._

_It was an experience that I can't put into words. All I can say is that it had more downs than ups, mostly because of the staff and the general treatment towards us inmates. I was one of those victims, and I still think about what they did to me._

_You know, you meet some really famous criminals when you stay at Arkham. I'm sure you know some of them, if you hadn't forgotten during your stay in Mexico. Well, I met one and he... He had me interested. So we got to talking, and that led to an unexpected friendship, which led to an unexpected relationship._

_He's... a complicated man. He has his ups and downs. He has a difficult time sleeping, which I'm used to because of you. I don't know if I want to tell you his name. You might think even lesser of me, but then again, you also probably don't care._

_Anyways, he filled that hole I was missing. I honestly didn't think anyone could until I met him. It's like we're two sides of the same coin; we both have unspoken trauma and internal issues. It was like we completed each other._

_Sorry, I don't mean to brag about our relationship... I hope you found somebody, too. I have to go, but I feel better now that I let it all out. Maybe you can come to America again and visit me? It's a crazy idea, I know..._

_Yours truly,_

_Andrew_


	4. Naive Unprepared Child

It was another day in the seemingly endless and monotonous routine of the rogues. The only fun that comes to them is when they’re allowed in the recreational room. It’s not much but they’ve learned to take it or leave it. They were all doing there own thing.

Edward and Harvey were playing poker, with the Joker sitting on the floor by their table reading a comic book. Jervis was having his own tea party with Jonathan and some stuffed animals. Waylon was crouched in front of the fish tank, enamored by the small fish swimming around. Pamela and Harley were making artificial flower crowns for each other at the crafts table. Only Victor Fries, Victor Zsasz, Oswald, and Bane couldn’t be there; Fries couldn’t leave his sub-frozen cell, Zsasz was in solitary confinement, Oswald was busy running his clubs, and Bane had went off the grid.

It was quite a treat, really. A break from the crime and drama in Gotham City. No Batman flying around and kicking someone’s teeth in. Only the Joker pined for another dance with the bat, but even he was enjoying the break.

“Eddie, dear, your poker face needs some work,” he chimed in, not even looking up from the comic book in his hands.

“Another comment from you and I’m going to make sure it will be your face that needs some work,” Edward grumbled, gripping his cards tightly.

Harvey sets his hand of cards face-up on the table and with a smug grin, he says, “Full house.”

Edward smacks his cards down on the table. Harvey takes his winnings, or rather just a couple candy bars they happened to find (steal).

“I want a rematch!” Edward demanded.

“Like the last three times you asked?” Harvey asked.

“I wasn’t paying attention! This- this  _buffoon_  was distracting me with  _senseless conversation!”_ Edward shrieked. The Joker snickers behind his comic book. “What are you laughing at?”

“Honey, I laugh at everything,” Joker replied. He stands up with an enthusiastic jump and walks over to Jervis and Jonathan. He sits down, crossing his legs. “Hello, boys. Mind if I join you for a spot of tea?”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry, Mr. Joker. I’m afraid we’re full on our seating chart,” Jervis said with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, we’re kind of busy at the moment,” Jonathan added.

The Joker gives him a reassuring grin. “Oh, I won’t be long, I just want to hear the tea.”

“Hear the...tea?” Jervis asked, confused.

The Joker grabs one of the plastic cups and pretends to take a sip from it. “It’s just slang, darling. It means I want to hear some juicy gossip.”

“O- Oh, well there’s not much to talk about. And that’s Alice’s cup you’re drinking from.”

“It appears I am. Well, just holler when you have something interesting to talk about,” Joker said and gets up. He approaches Waylon and stands behind him, looking over his shoulder. Waylon lets out a low growl and that itself was enough for Joker to back away. He doesn’t dare go over to where Harley and Pamela are; the last time he talked to Harley, she threatened to use his head as a bowling ball.

“There’s gotta be  _someone_  who wouldn’t mind some extra company!” He complained.

The rogues’ attention is drawn to two guards shoving someone into the rec room. They leave him here, closing the door before he could get out. He tries to open it but gives up. When the stranger turns his head to look at the rogues, they go back to doing their own thing.

Except for the Joker.

The Joker stares at the stranger with an expression devoid of any emotion, taking notes of everything about him. The stranger is tall, but not as tall as him. But the stranger’s body is more heavily built. That could be useful... The stranger’s head is covered in a thick mass of black hair that’s sleek and messy. Must’ve gotten into a scuffle with the guards. His skin is the color of vanilla ice cream, with small, brown dots scattered across his face and neck.

The stranger is looking directly at the Joker now, and they both see each other’s eyes. The stranger has two different colors, just like him; his right eye is icy blue and his left eye is brown like sweet, dark chocolate.

The stranger comes over to the Joker, which is something he did  _not_  expect. Internally, he’s panicking; nobody has ever just walked up to him like he’s a friendly neighbor.

“Please don’t come over here, please don’t come over here...” He whispers to himself.

“Hey,” the stranger said, staring at him with those eyes. The Joker doesn’t answer and avoids eye contact with him, so he tries again.  _“Hey.”_

The Joker finally looks down at him. “Don’t you know who I am, kid?”

The stranger shrugs. “Nah, not really.”

The Joker stands there dumbfounded. “What do you mean, you’ve never heard of me?  _Everyone_  has heard of me!”

The stranger shakes his head. “No, sorry. I’m Andrew.”

The Joker can’t believe it. This new guy, this literal  _child_  just walked up to him, introduced himself, and doesn’t even know who he’s talking to.

“I’m the Joker,” he said with a grin, holding out his hand. Andrew shakes it and the Joker squeezes his hand harder than he likes. Then he wraps an arm around Andrew’s shoulder, pulling him close. “Listen kid, I got some news for you. You gotta know who we are, end of story. You can’t just walk up in here and act like we’re buddy-buddy, okay?”

“Why not? Some of you are being buddy-buddy,” Andrew said, pointing at Jervis and Jonathan.

“Of course Jervis and Johnny are, they’re fucking dating,” Joker hissed quietly, forcing Andrew’s hand down.

“Oh. Is that...how I should get buddy-buddy with you?”

The Joker becomes flustered and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, that is not- ...what do you want from me, kid?”

“I don’t know,” Andrew said. “You were the only person who didn’t look away.”

“Hm, well I guess that one’s on me,” Joker said as he takes out one of the board games and sets it up. “Now I’m stuck babysitting a child. You realize these guys will eat you up?”

“Yeah, I know...” Andrew answered.

He takes the game’s cards, shuffles them, and asks, “So kid, what’d you do to get sent to the loony bin?”

“I um...I murdered my dad...” Andrew mumbled.

“That’s it?,” Joker asked in disbelief. “Boy, I guess they’ll just put anybody here nowadays.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you shouldn’t be here,” Joker said, staring at Andrew.

“Well I didn’t want to be here either, but the court said it was to treat my trauma...” Andrew picks up the dice and fidgets with them, looking down sullenly.

“Oh kid, you  _really_  shouldn’t be here then.” The Joker leans in close and in a soft voice, he says, “Arkham isn’t like other asylums, honey.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the staff here are the true villains, trust me.” Joker chuckles.

“Why are you helping me?” Andrew asked suspiciously.

“Because you wouldn’t survive a day here,” Joker replied with a smile. He sets the cards onto the board. “It’s your turn.”

Andrew rolls the dice and moves his piece. “What makes you think I can’t handle myself?”

“Well for starters, you decided to trust me.” Joker shrugged, rolling the dice. “I could kill you right now and you couldn’t defend yourself.”

“But you didn’t.” Andrew smiled smugly.

“Who knows? I’m the Joker.”

“I still don’t know who you are.”

“You will. So, tell me about yourself.”

“I’m 20. Oh, and I’m gay. How about you?”

Joker’s grin widens. “I’ve had my fair share of hot guys before.”

“Now you tell me about yourself.”

“I don’t think you’d wanna know anything about me.”

“Humor me. After all, your name is the Joker.” Andrew smiles.

“Flirty, aren’t we?” Joker asked. “Alright, I’ll play along. I’m a homicidal clown that likes to torture everyone I meet. I killed Robin and I put Batgirl in a wheelchair. I kill people for fun and I like breaking people down psychologically. Also I like skateboarding.”

“You can skateboard?” Andrew asked, mismatched eyes lighting up with intrigue.

“That’s the part you picked up from that?” Joker asked. Andrew nods and he sighs. “Yes, I can skateboard.”

“I only know how to roller skate. But I can play the ukulele. I just wish they let me bring mine.”

“I can get you one.” Joker smiled mischievously.

“You can?”

“Of course I can. I’m the Joker.”

Their conversation is interrupted by the guards shouting it’s time for dinner. The rogues put everything back and walk single file to the cafeteria. Andrew ends up walking behind the Joker and in front of Waylon. Andrew cries out when he realizes he’s walking in front of a giant reptilian man and clings to the back of Joker’s uniform.

“Kid, get off me!” Joker whispered harshly, knocking Andrew’s hand off. “What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get us hurt?”

“Hey! Be quiet over there!” One of the guards yelled.

“What the hell is that guy behind me?” Andrew whispered desperately. 

“If you know what’s good for you, I suggest you shut your trap," Joker muttered. 

"But-" 

"I thought I told you to be quiet!" That same guard said as he stormed over to them. He grabs Andrew by the collar of his uniform and pulls him out of line. The Joker and the other rogues and guards stop and watch as Andrew struggles against him. The guard feels as if he's done a good job in terrorizing him so he throws Andrew back and motions for everyone to keep walking. 

'I told you', the Joker mouths to him. Andrew stays silent for the rest of the way. 


End file.
